Kadhalan and the Virginity Myth

Content Warning:

Mention of sexual violence (virginity testing)


Image: DNAIndia.com

Note: I refer to the characters in the movie by the actors’ names for clarity.

My mom likes to periodically remind me that I was an incredibly annoying child who insisted on having Mukkala Mukkabala play on repeat. The song, or rather THE soundtrack to every 90s Tamil kid's childhood, is the only part of Shankar's Kadhalan (1994) I remembered. For others, a particular scene in the movie left them poorly informed about the concept of virginity.

My friends and I were recently talking about the different ways Tamil movies shaped our understanding of sex and sexuality growing up. "There is a scene in Kadhalan where Nagma's character has her hymen checked," my friend chimed in as I stared back at her with utter disbelief. "It really confused me when I was younger. I grew up believing a doctor could tell if I was a virgin or not," she continued. I had no recollection of the scene, and naturally, my curiosity had me watching the movie for the first time 26 years since its release.

In this article, I deconstruct the myths around virginity that Kadhalan reinforces and address its contributions to the miseducation around the issues of sex, sexuality, and consent. But first, let's take a closer look at the scene.

About an hour and 35 minutes in, immediately after the song "Kadhalikkum Penin Kaikal," a nurse and a doctor are let into Nagma's room by her father. The doctor informs Nagma that she is just here for a simple check-up as she had just come back from a dance festival with Prabhudeva. Nagma, initially confused by this visit, is surprised when the doctor lifts her dress. She confronts her father, who barges into the room, yelling and hitting her. Eventually, Nagma agrees to the procedure. Though, it is important here to note that coercion should not be confused with consent. Nagma agrees to the procedure as a result of her father using violent and emotional force.

Virginity Testing and the Hymen

The World Health Organization (WHO) defines "virginity testing" as "an inspection of the female genitalia meant to determine whether a woman or girl has had vaginal intercourse," which "has no scientific merit or clinical indication – the appearance of a hymen is not a reliable indication of intercourse and there is no known examination that can prove a history of vaginal intercourse."

In its definition of sexual violence, Centre for Research & Education on Violence against Women & Children at Western University includes "the imposition or elimination of actions related to sexual and reproductive health". It outlines "practices designed to detect whether a woman's virginity is intact […] as an example of this kind of violence." 

Last year, Rapper TI shared that he has a gynaecologist check his daughter's hymen every year on her birthday to ensure she was still a virgin. The conversations that followed were insightful and served as an essential part of ongoing sexual discourse. There is no definitive correlation between vaginal penetration and hymens tearing. However, myths around hymens are still prevalent today. On their website, Planned Parenthood debunks some of these myths by stating the following:

"Some people believe that you're not a virgin if your hymen is stretched open. But having a hymen and being a virgin are not the same thing. Some people are born with hymens that are naturally open. And many other activities besides sex can stretch your hymen. So you can't tell if someone has had sex by the way their hymen looks or feels."

Additionally, virginity as a social construct is shaped around cis-heteronormative understandings of sex. Who are we leaving out of the conversation when we continue to speak about virginity in relation to hymens? What does it mean when we define sex as vaginal penetration? How does the concept of virginity connect to other kinds of sex? These questions lead to further discussions around the role of cis-heteropatriarchal systems, societies and views in the erasure of queer, trans and binary folks.                                                                            

The Virginity Myth and the State 

The concept of virginity, developed and upheld by cis-heteropatriarchal societies to assert power over certain bodies, continues to construct notions of sex and sexuality that permeate our public and private spaces. Various social and cultural phenomena, including Tamil movies, inform these conversations wherein virginity is rarely addressed as merely a social construct. At a very young age, we are exposed to misconceptions about virginity that shapes how we navigate relationships with others and, most importantly, ourselves. Kadhalan weaves into conversation the various power structures that result in the policing of women's bodies, in this case by their fathers, in society.

In the scene, Nagma's father responds to her outrage by justifying his suspicions while spewing casteist and elitist rhetoric to place blame on Prabhudeva. Her father claims her virginity as an extension of his socio-economic status, effectively robbing Nagma of the right to bodily autonomy. Further, it comments on the heteropatriarchal correlation between class and caste power to that of state power. Nagma's father's concern around her virginity in relation to his status in society is an example of this relationship.  

I am curious about the filmmakers' intentions around this particular scene. Was it to draw connections between the notions of patriarchy and obsessive control over women's bodies by way of the movie's main antagonist? In which case, I believe the scene served as a metaphor about the state's ownership of certain bodies as Nagma's father was an elected government official which serves as part of a larger plot point.

In 2011, at least 18 Egyptian women revolutionaries who protested against Hosni Mubarak's leadership were detained and subsequently forced by the military to undergo "virginity tests." Addressing this incident, in a powerful TEDx talk, the brilliant Mona Eltahawy states the following:

"The state is part of what I call the trifecta of misogyny…The trifecta of misogyny has on its three corners: the state, the street and the home. As I mentioned when I first began my talk, Egyptian women went out on the streets against that state alongside men. But what happened when we went home? We looked at the men that we share our homes with, and we realized that they, whether they are on the street corners or in our bedrooms, are part of that trifecta of misogyny because it's the state, the street and the home that together oppress women."

Eltahawy's trifecta of misogyny strengthens her overall argument and title of her talk: My Body Belongs to Me. It also reminds us that cis-het men are not exempt from patriarchal violence. In fact, they also feel and internalize it’s impact resulting in toxic hyper-masculinity. This scene in Kadhalan, I argue, makes no substantial contributions to the overall plot, but the incident is a reason Nagma, in the following scenes, comes to the conclusion that the only way to "liberate" herself from her home is to marry Prabhudeva. Kadhalan's indication that Nagma can resist these oppressive patriarchal norms through, and only through, her relationship with Prabhudeva is an exhausting trope evident in many Tamil movies.

With every conversation, I become more confident that comprehensive trauma-informed sex-positive sexual education and consent education is necessary for young people to develop healthy relationships with their bodies. Understanding that systemic oppression and state violence play a key role in how we view and treat our bodies is a crucial step in our commitment to dismantling these systems. And finally, while Tamil movies have continued to depict harmful societal norms, they hold value in our lives in various ways. Tamil movies can also serve as entry points to a conversation with loved ones on issues we care about by meeting folks where they are. 

--
Additional Notes: I should mention that in this scene, the doctor had gloves on and had scooped up Vaseline in one hand to do this "check-up". I found conflicting sources online about the use of Vaseline on the vulva and in the vagina, while many recommended not using Vaseline as lube. Please do your research before using Vaseline. 


Laxana Paskaran

Laxana is a Toronto-based community organizer and the Editor-in-Chief of Thaen X, an online platform that centres conversation and critical analysis around sexual health and wellness within the South Asian Diaspora. She is a Master of Education candidate in Social Justice Education, specializing in Ethnic and Pluralism studies at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education (OISE) at the University of Toronto (U of T). She currently holds a work-study position as the Events and Programming Assistant at the Sexual Violence Prevention and Support Centre at U of T St. George. Laxana also holds an Honours Bachelor of Science from the University of Toronto.

https://thaenx.com
Previous
Previous

Seeing Sexuality Differently After Having It Hushed All My Life

Next
Next

Yearning—In Sickness and In Health